


Crowley and the Glitter

by Tindomerelhloni



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crack Fic, Did I mention glitter?, Glitter, I suck at tagging, M/M, Wings, just for fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:00:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27214579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tindomerelhloni/pseuds/Tindomerelhloni
Summary: Crowley decides that simply mailing an envelope of glitter isn't bad enough. He creates something a bit more unique.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 47





	Crowley and the Glitter

**Author's Note:**

> Just a crack fic, I thought it would be funny if Crowley was the one to invent the glitter bomb. Not much work went into this, as I wanted to keep it light and funny. So please just take it for what it is, a crack fic.

**Year: 2011**

“Angel,” Crowely called through the door to Aziraphale’s bookshop, his voice exasperated and pleading, “Let me in!”

“I simply cannot.” Shaking his head the Angel held the door shut firm. “I cannot let that… _abomination…_ inside my shop. What if it got on the books, Crowley. No, I’m sorry, you’ll have to work on it somewhere else. Somewhere far from here. Your flat, perhaps?”

With that, Aziraphale bolted the door shut, muttered a prayer, and went to draw the drapes. Crowley stood outside shouting to be let in, but the angel simply picked up his book and cocoa and moved to the back of his shop.

“Me, letting glitter inside my bookshop. To think of the havoc…” 

  
  


*** 

**_Crowley, why on earth did you bring glitter… here?_ ** Crowley had called him as soon as he’d arrived back at his flat. Having expected this he’d busied himself in the tiny kitchen located behind the main floor of his book shop. It was always best to have something productive to do, like baking, when Crowley was in this mood. With any luck the phone call would last under an hour, and Aziraphale would be able to go back to reading. He’d just acquired a new book for the Children’s section, and he needed to read it before putting it on the shelf. What with a name like _Put Tony’s Nuts In Your Mouth_ , how could he resist? 

**Well….** Crowley’s voice drawled through the speaker. Aziraphale couldn’t help but get the feeling that the demon was up to something worse than usual which meant he’d be on the phone for at least an hour. So instead of the chocolate chip cookies he’d been planning to make, he instead opted for banana bread with chocolate chunks in it. **I was thinking… you know how you can pay to have a potato anonymously mailed to a friend’s house?**

**_Why on earth would you mail a potato?_ **

**Why wouldn’t you? It’s funny… anyways…** **Last night I was watching American news.** Crowley trailed off for a moment, letting the line go silent as he began placing the items from his shopping bag on the table. He’d gone to a local craft store and purchased over 30 quid worth of glitter. Five tubes, red, blue, gold, silver, and purple, now sat lined up side by side. Beside that he placed a hot glue gun, a cardboard poster-saver, a spring, and a bit of craft foam. ********

 **_Why?_ ** Aziraphale asked, filling the silence. Distracted by the thought of how horrid American news could get and by his recipe he forgot about people sending random potatoes through the post. **_American News… Crowley…_ ** Stepping back from the worktop he looked over the recipe and the ingredients laid out, making certain he hadn’t forgotten anything.

 **It helps me sleep. OH, scissors, I need scissors….** Picking up his mobile he darted through his flat, which was bigger on the inside, therefore taking a full two minutes to reach the far side where his best pair of scissors were stored inside a drawer in his desk. On his way back to his creation room he added, **The highlight of the night, apparently, was an altercation at a book signing.**

 ** _Oh?_** Noticing he’d forgotten the vanilla he reached up into a cupboard for it.

 **So this bloke was signing some books he wrote.** Back in his creation room, dubbed thus by Aziraphale after Crowley had needed a spare room to repair odds and ends, he set about measuring a circle in the foam that would fit snugly inside the cardboard tube. **Don’t ask me who, I didn’t pay attention… Anyways…** The circle now cut out he glowered at the hot glue gun until it heated up. (Much faster than if he’d just plugged it in.) **This guy wearing a ridiculous hat walked up behind him and dumped a whole bunch of glitter on his head while screaming “Stop the hate!” and “Feel the rainbow!”**

**_Feel the rainbow? With glitter? Oh my…._ **

**So I thought to myself, what would be better than simply dumping a bunch of glitter on some blokes head?** Without waiting for Aziraphale to answer, Crowley said so loudly it hurt Aziraphale’s ears _,_ **Glitter in the post! Which, of course, is already done. I wanted something bigger and badder than a mere handful of glitter inside an envelope. So… I’m creating a spring-loaded cylinder. Inside will be glitter, and when you open the top… BOOM, glitter everywhere. Would it be wrong of me if I put just the tiniest trace of explosives in it?**

 **_Yes, Crowley, even for a demon that would be wrong. It’s against the law to put explosives through the post._ **Measuring out the flour Aziraphale found himself incredibly grateful that he hadn’t allowed Crowley and his bag full of glitter into his shop. Even if he’d used a minor miracle, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get rid of every speck of the hideous stuff.

 **Thought so…. Well, I think I came up with a way to get the glitter out of the tube, simply by opening the top. I’ll need to test it on someone, of course. Know anyone special?**   
  
Picking up the large spring, Crowley placed it in the center of the circle, then using the hot glue gun he glued both spring and foam together. The spring was longer than the tube was, so he figured if he pushed the foam down with something, a dowel or even a spoon, creating a shallow depression inside the tube, he could put in an inch or two of glitter, then somehow get the cover back on the tube. When the unsuspecting person opened the tube, the pressure behind the spring would cause the glitter to shoot everywhere. It was a prototype, he’d need to find an easier way to get the glitter inside the tube and it sealed shut, but that’s why he’d bought so much glitter. This would take more than one attempt to perfect if he wanted to do it without using a miracle. And that would require paperwork, which he certainly didn’t’ feel like filling out. 

**_I overheard Gabriel and Michael talking the other day. I guess events have been set in motion to get someone named Donald Trump elected as president in five years. I know how much you hate presidents. Perhaps him?_ **

**Him? That’ hardly seems wise… Was that your side or mine?** With the tube part assembled, Crowley used the end of a wooden dowel he had handy to press down the foam and spring, testing the springiness. It bounced back up readily and figuring it was ready for glitter he placed the tube aside. 

**_Yours, I think._ **Aziraphale said over the sound of his whisking. 

**Is that whisking I hear? What are you baking?** Crowley eyed the phone, which he’d placed on the table to his left. 

**_Banana Chocolate Chip Bread. You’ll come over for some later, won't you?_ **

**Consider me already on my way.** In a large bowl, Crowley began mixing the different colors of glitter together. He’d purchased two of them in a “fine” grit, and as he poured them into the bowl they wafted up, forming a mini mushroom cloud of gold and red. **Looks like Christmas.**

**_How will you get your glitter bomb to Trump?_ **

**A man like him? I’ll simply post it from the Queen. He thinks himself important enough for something like that. Probably write “For your eyes only” on it. That oughta get him.** Glitter mixed, Crowley was now faced with the task of pouring the mixture into the tube _while_ depressing the spring-loaded circle. 

Sticking his tongue out in consternation he used his dominant hand to depress the circle, while carefully pouring the glitter into the tube with the other. He managed to pour half the glitter needed into the tube before the disaster hit. 

The tubed slipped out of his grip and in that same moment, the dowel which had been holding down the spring fell out of his hand. The cascade of glitter erupted out of the tube with such speed and force that Crowley instinctively unleashed his wings, using them to block the glitter from hitting his face. 

**Oh… fuck…** Crowley muttered from behind his shield of black feathers. 

**_Crowley, my dear? Are you alright… I could have sworn I just heard a star being created…. It was all… tinkly._ **

**Huh, it did sound like that, didn’t it?** Separating a few feathers, Crowley peered out at the tabletop, and at the mess before him. Glitter had gotten _everywhere_ . On the floor, on the walls, his skin, and even on the plants he kept in that room. It would take ages to clean up. Worst of all, his feathers shimmered with a rainbow of colors. **I might have made a mistake, Angel.**

 **_You got glitter everywhere, didn’t you? Thank heavens you’re nowhere near my books._ **His recipe coming along nicely, Aziraphale gave the batter one more stir before greasing his pan.

 **Everywhere, Angel… Everywhere. It won't come out of my wings.** Crowley gave his wings a firm shake, and while some of the glitter did in fact drift down towards the floor, most of if seemed to imbed further inside his wings. 

Not willing to accept defeat, especially considering the worst had already happened and he was covered head to toe in glitter (save for his face where his wings had shielded him). Crowley scooped up as much of the glitter from the table as he could, putting it back inside the bowl. Then, with hands caked in glitter, he picked up the cardboard tube and began to think.

 **No matter, it’ll come out, won't it?** A thought came to him as he fed the foam and spring through the tube again after banging off the excess glitter on the table. What if he only stuck it in halfway, then poured the glitter in. If he capped the end with the glitter and held it tight, he should be able to push the rest of the spring inside from the other end, then cap that end. It would prevent glitter from going everywhere… again. 

Twenty minutes later, Crowley had a working glitter bomb, and Aziraphale was well on his way to having banana bread. Now standing in front of a mirror Crowley twisted this way and that, flexing his wings and straining them in a vain attempt to get the glitter out. He’d even taken a fine-toothed comb, and had managed to get some of the glitter out. But there were places he just couldn’t reach. He _could_ miracle away the glitter, but then there would be paperwork and the awkward conversation with Hastur over why he’d used his last miracle of the month on himself.   
  
**Angle, please?** He begged into his phone. He knew Aziraphale well and thought that if he kept begging, eventually his friend would cave. 

**_I’m sorry, Crowley. But I’m far too busy. Books to inventory and I have to pop over to Prague to perform a blessing. I’m sorry but I must go. I’ll drop of some banana bread on my way out of town._ **Aziraphale ended the call, leaving Crowley alone to continue uselessly combing through his feathers.

***   
**One Week Later**

Aziraphale met up with Crowley at St. James’s Park when he got back to London. They’d gone for a walk, they’d stopped at a quaint little cafe for lunch, and now they were walking back through the park towards Crowley’s Bently. 

“Crowley…” Aziraphale finally said, having spent the last hour fighting over if he should say something or not. “You’re _leaking_ glitter.”   
  
“I know!” The demon hissed back, stopping in his tracks. He spun on his heels, sending a spray of glitter out around his body, then sneered down at the path. Stopping at his feet, and reaching as far as they could see down the trail, was a soft trail of glitter. “It’s my wings! I can’t get it out. I’ve been leaving a trail of glitter everywhere I go. _Everywhere_ , Aziraphale.” Turning to face the angel Crowley pointed downwards and cocked an eyebrow.

“Ohh…” Aziraphale exclaimed, and stopped himself just short of laughing. “Even,” lowering his voice to a whisper he asked, “hell?”  
  
“Yes! Everywhere I go, its sparkles and rainbows!”   
  
“It’s cheery?” Aziraphale put in, trying to reassure his friend.

“It’s itchy!” Crowley snaked an arm behind his back, elbow bending in a way that went against human anatomy, and scratch between his shoulder blades. “Though… it isn’t all bad.”

“Oh, how so?” The angel asked, folding his hands behind his back, continuing down the path, this time making certain he was a few steps ahead of Crowley.

“Mmm had to pop over to Sweeden for a temptation. I arrived early, making sure I knew the lay of the house. When the owner got home, just seeing glitter all over his house caused him to start swearing. I didn’t even need to tempt him to curse. He just did it by himself.” Crowley shook his shoulders, sending glitter cascading to the ground. 

“Was it worth it? Playing with glitter?” Aziraphale asked.

“Sooo worth it,” Crowley grinned so wide Aziraphale felt a smile creep over his own face. “The orange man yelled so hard when he opened it. I’d do it all over again, for a reaction like that.”

“Well, how about we go back to your flat, and I’ll help you get the glitter out? Though I’m afraid I’ll need one of those hazmat suits if you expect me inside your glitter infested flat.” Feeling sorry for his friend, and not wanting to get any more glitter on his person than what had already clung to his pantlegs, Aziraphale decided to offer his help.   
  
“Oh, thank you. You truly are an angel.” Crowley beamed, ruffling Aziraphale’s feathers with his praise. “I’ll owe you one.”   
  
“Breakfast, tomorrow. In Paris. We’ll call it even.” Preening under the praise the angel smiled back at his friend. Truly, they both knew it would end like this. Aziraphale would do nearly anything for a decadent breakfast. Even if it involved glitter.   
  
“Deal.” Crowley agreed, then wishing for the Bently to be parked closer, he rounded the bend in the path. There, parked along the road was his trusty car. “Shall we?” he asked, snapping his fingers and willing the passenger door open. Aziraphale climbed inside and marveled at the distinct lack of glitter inside the car.  
  
 _If only Crowley was as imaginative about himself as he is about his car. He could simply will the glitter away. Ah well, I get crepes out of it, so who am I to complain?_ The angel thought, as they pulled away and drove off into a brilliant sunset. 


End file.
